Number One Fan
by Cora Clavia
Summary: "Kate? Um, you want to explain this?" Castle finds something he didn't expect. Oneshot.


Vaguely Season 5, no spoilers other than A.) Castle and Beckett are super, super hot and B.) they are having sex now. If you know those two things, you're safe.

* * *

"Kate? Um, you want to explain this?"

Kate's rummaging through her refrigerator. She's almost certain she has eggs; one side effect of all the...activity...she and Castle are engaging in at night is that now she's always famished in the morning. For food.

Well, and for him.

She turns, her eyes sweeping appreciatively over his messy bed hair, the dusting of stubble over his jaw, his rumpled boxer shorts, the broad expanse of his bare chest. _Mmmm._ It should be embarrassing, the way her body reacts to him every single time, the unmistakable flush of heat that sets her skin alight. But after all, she spent four years pretending she didn't like it. She's got lost time to catch up on.

"Not that I'm not glad you like the view, Kate, but I'm still waiting."

His amused voice cuts through her lazy perusal of his body. Oh. Right. He asked something.

Kate blinks, focusing on his hand, and then she realizes what he's holding. How - where –

- she hasn't seen _that_ in quite a while.

He's coming closer, backing her up against her cabinets, and she tries to stay focused as he starts sliding a hand over her thigh, his chest pressing against hers as his fingers trip lightly over her bare skin. She's wearing his shirt because she knows he likes it when she does that. And she likes how it's loose enough for him to get his hands under it. And _oh_ the way he starts nuzzling her neck, pressing wet kisses to her throat that makes her toes curl. Oh, that's nice.

She's so dazed by the slow slide of his hands over her ribs and his tongue trailing over her pulse point that it's a moment before she remembers, feels the fabric bunched in his other hand.

She swallows. "Where did you find that?"

"In your underwear drawer."

"Why were you looking through my - "

"Not important." He smothers her protests with a brief kiss to her lips. "What we _do_ need to discuss is where you _got_ this glorious little thing. And why you haven't worn it every - " kiss - "single - " kiss - "_day_." His tongue slides easily into her mouth, and she wonders how bad it would be to just forget this conversation for a while.

"I bet you'd like that," she murmurs, biting her lip as she reaches for the fabric. But he pulls it back out of her grasp, grinning cheekily. "Castle. Give it back."

"No."

"_Castle_." She uses the sternest voice she can muster, though it's probably not very effective since she figured out a while ago that he finds it more of a turn-on than anything else.

"Oh, come on, Kate. You have an _I Heart Rick Castle_ t-shirt and you never _told_ me?"

She rolls her eyes, finally managing to snatch the shirt out of his hands. "I knew you'd react like this."

"Ka-_aate_." He whines. "Come on, this is the best news ever! My smoking hot girlfriend has a t-shirt that says she _hearts_ me? How else am I supposed to react?"

"Don't get excited, Castle." She bats away his hands, because if he does manage to undo the buttons and get his shirt off her she's not going to have the ability to resist him or argue or, well, do much but beg. "I didn't even buy it."

"Someone gave it to you?"

"You honestly think I'd get this for myself?"

Castle feigns a hurt look. "Are you saying you don't heart me? That's hurtful, Beckett. I feel hurt."

"I could kiss it and make it better."

"As appealing as that sounds," he murmurs, his hands sliding over her hips, drawing her into his body, "I want to know what wonderful person gave you this incredibly tasteful piece of apparel." His fingers are tracing light, distracting patterns over her skin, flirting with the spot where her panties meet her skin. Oh dear. She might not win this conversation.

"What if I told you it's none of your business?"

"Seeing as it's _my_ name that you heart, I'd say it's definitely my business."

She takes in a shaky breath as he leans in, his thigh sliding between her legs, trapping her between the wooden cabinet door and the hard, hot line of his body. "And what if I just decided not to tell you anyway?"

"Oh, Kate." He gets that wolfish grin on his face, the one that makes her shiver. The grin that usually means she's going to be late for work. "I think you know perfectly well that I have _very_ effective methods of persuasion."

Her retort dies on her lips as his clever fingers slide between her legs, circling over her damp underwear, his touch so faint it's agonizing. The shirt slips from her grasp. She lets out a soft noise, her hands clutching at his bare shoulders, her hips rolling instinctively. Oh so good, so good but not _enough_ –

"Where'd you get the shirt, Kate?"

She'd glare at him for the smug question but she can't muster up the ability to do anything but whimper. And then the evil man slips a finger inside her and her eyes roll back. "Cas- oh _Castle_ - "

"Tell me, Kate." God, she doesn't want to but she can't _breathe_ and when his thumb slides over her she _moans_. "Come on, Kate. Just tell me."

She grits her teeth and curls her hands around the counter behind her as he slips a second finger in, determined to hold out. She wants to tease him, wants to win this, prove she can –

His fingers _curl_ inside her and his thumb presses down, and she just can't stop the soft keening noises that escape her lips, high-pitched and desperate. He pumps his fingers faster, his thumb sliding up and over and he knows exactly how to take her apart and suddenly everything just goes _white_, her body shuddering and seizing around him, hot and quivering and so good she really kind of hates him for it.

And sure enough, when she opens her eyes again, he's grinning. Yeah. He's pleased with himself. Of course, if this is his method of torture, she can't really bring herself to be unhappy about it.

He presses a kiss to her temple, his mouth lingering over her skin. "You okay there?"

"Oh, shut up," she mumbles, slapping his chest half-heartedly.

"Kate, come _on_." He fixes her with an innocent look that isn't remotely convincing. "Just tell me where you got the shirt so we can have sex."

"Well, when you put it so delicately..." She rolls her eyes, though she's really not completely opposed to his reasoning. Not when her legs are still faltering a little after that orgasm. "It's from Ryan and Esposito."

"Seriously? When did they give it to you?"

Her lips quirk into a grin. "About a week after you bribed your way into stalking me and calling it 'book research.'"

Castle laughs at that, delighted, his eyes sparkling. "So, they wanted to celebrate your undeniable attraction to the devilish, ruggedly handsome Richard Castle?"

"No." She kisses his lips lightly. "It was a joke. They knew I couldn't stand you."

"What?" He's pouting. It's sexy.

She leans back on her wrists, shooting him a look. "Even _you_ have to admit, Rick, this whole thing started because you wanted to sleep with me and I turned you down."

"Maybe then." He shrugs. "But you know it didn't stay like that. It was more."

"I know." She runs her fingers through his soft messy hair, watching as his eyes flicker in pleasure, a soft rumble running through his chest. "You grew on me."

"So why didn't you wear the shirt then? Because I bet it looks really, really good on you."

"Because you would've enjoyed it too much," she throws back, eyebrows arching. "I wasn't going to stroke your ego."

His fingers have started on the buttons of the shirt she's wearing, slow and teasing. "You're right. I can think of _much_ better things for you to stroke."

Oh, come on_._ The lame line, coupled with the way he's openly leering at her and pushing the cotton off her shoulders, absolutely shouldn't be working. But she's hot, her skin flushed, her body thrumming with anticipation as she can feel his arousal pressed firmly against her thigh, and his smooth skin all against her is just too much and she's just so _needy_ since he got his hand between her legs and oh to hell with it, she wants him.

And besides, this is _actually a thing they do now_.

She bites her lip, flicking a glance up at him. "Stroke what, Castle? Stroke _this?"_

She slips her hand under the thin fabric of his boxers and closes her fingers around the length of him, drawing a sharp gasp from him as his hips jerk uncontrollably into her. _Who's in charge _now_, Rick?_

It happens so fast. His mouth devours hers relentlessly as he yanks her panties down her hips. She gets his boxers off and he shoves her back on the counter, and her legs tighten around his waist and he pushes into her and oh _God_ oh _yes_, she clutches hard at his shoulders, his hair, anything, her body flush and hot and _filled_ and he drives into her _harder_ and _fuck_ and he _thrusts_ and that's it right there and again and _again_ and oh Castle oh Castle _yes_ –

She breaks apart around him, her fingernails digging into his skin as he chokes out a muffled curse into her shoulder, tightens his grip on her thighs and releases, spurting into her hot and dirty and _spent_.

She slumps into him, their hot breaths mingling, sweat slick on his skin under her shaky fingers. _Oh_. Her body's still trembling. Wow. Yeah.

Every time he gives her the look, every time his fingers slide over her body and he starts kissing her neck and they start stumbling towards the nearest flat surface, she keeps thinking _it can't possibly be this good every single time_. But then it always is.

He reaches away for a second, and she twists to see what he's doing. Oh, of course. He's grabbing that stupid t-shirt. Seriously? They just had sex in her kitchen, and he's still fixated on that?

She plucks it from his hand. "All the things you could have pulled out of my underwear drawer, and you picked this?" He picked the single non-sexy thing in that drawer. It really doesn't make sense. Especially since his birthday is coming up, and she went shopping last weekend; she knows there's a particular piece of lacy, satiny sinfulness in there he's going to get very, very excited to take off her. Creatively.

"Don't worry, I intend to fully devote my attention to the intricacies of your lingerie collection in the near future," he leers, leaning between her thighs to kiss her cheek lightly. "But Kate, come on. This is awesome."

"It's just a t-shirt, Castle."

"It's a t-shirt that says you heart me. This really might be my favorite item of clothing you own." She arches an eyebrow, and he reconsiders. "Okay, no, I _really_ like that little thing from La Perla. But this is definitely number two."

"I'm glad you enjoy it so much, but honestly, I'd forgotten I even had it."

"You forgot you had a t-shirt declaring your unending heart-ness for me?" He shoots her his best puppy eyes. "Please tell me you at least slept it."

"No."

That's not - _exactly_ true. But really, it was just the one time. And only because she was at the end of laundry. So she's steadfastly pretending it didn't happen.

"Did you ever wear it in the bathtub?"

"No."

"Reading a steamy scene from one of the Nikki Heat books?"

"No."

"Not _ever?_" The man looks crestfallen. Kate can't help but laugh.

"Do you really seriously think I wore that thing for some twisted sexual deviance?"

"I was kind of hoping."

"No." She presses a kiss to his sweaty shoulder. "I have the _real _Richard Castle for all my sexual deviance."


End file.
